


Off Base

by wildglitterwolf



Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: Angst, Biting, Cliff as vulnerable as he gets, Cliff really loves tacos, Dom Cliff, First Time Bottoming, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, Licking, M/M, Oral Fixation, Problematic 60s Behavior, Restraining, Rick’s Bipolar Disorder got him all over the place, Rimming, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Sports References, Why Rick wears turtlenecks, blowjob, having an affair, necking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21587542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildglitterwolf/pseuds/wildglitterwolf
Summary: Cliff’s becoming frustrated with his home life and relationship with his wife. He realizes it’s gotten to the point where he’d prefer to spend his time with Rick than her and starts to accept the fact that his loyalties are shifting. Rick invites him over to watch the 1963 World Series where Cliff decides to test if Rick feels the same about him.
Relationships: Cliff Booth/Rick Dalton
Comments: 34
Kudos: 136





	1. Rounding First

**Author's Note:**

> As native LA sports-trash, I may have selfishly been looking for an excuse to reference my teams in fics. Fortunately, the 1963 World Series gave be the best timeline to backdrop this idea I had so here’s my chance. (Go Dodgers)

Emasculated.

Finally. He finally admitted to himself that’s what he felt. Fucking _emasculated_. By his own fucking _wife_. 

It was like he lost control of this whole situation, like a dog he didn’t train properly and was now walking all over him. Not that he felt that women needed to be trained, he just fucking thought that’s how they already came. If he was taught growing up that it was his job to be in charge of his woman then it only made sense that women got the same lesson in reverse. Boy, did society fuck that one up for him.

What also didn’t help was that he grew up with that Southern gentleman lesson as well. Be polite and well-mannered. He never once saw his father raise his voice or hit his mother, mainly because there was never a need as she knew her place as a house-wife. Most people in that town were the same way. How was he to ever know these wild women out there existed? Maybe that’s what drew him to Billie in the first place; she was something new. Exciting. Almost taboo. Not that pre-marital sex was anything to bat an eye at anymore for himself as war kinda changed that view. His church going parents would be horrified at the sexual acts he performed overseas with both women and men. If his soul was already damned to hell for that, why stop now? Those California girls and their temptations to a life of sin no longer scared him.

Oh, but he wasn’t ready for Billie. Not at all. He thought once they were married and settle everything would fall into place as it should be, as he was told it should be. Cliff wasn’t sure he’d be the best dad, but part of him deep down wanted to be one. The thought of playing catch with his own son or having a tea party with his little girl and her dolls (or hell, catch with her, too) put a soft smile on his face. But Billie had no desire for kids or even gave the appearance of one suitable for motherhood, so he slowly let that dream die. If he wanted to take care of a child, he guessed there was always Rick. Ever since _Bounty Law_ ended this year, Rick has become far more intimate with him emotionally; Cliff never thought he could see a man cry that much but he guessed whatever instinct this was, parental or something else, he wanted to make sure his buddy was taken care of in a positive manner. 

“Damnit,” he hisses through his teeth as he pulls the money out of his stash in the drawer and counts it. He’s about $20 short and barely has enough to cover a full tank of gas. “Billie? Where the hell is my money? This is suppose to be my gas money.”

“The allowance you gave me didn’t cover the purse I wanted so I borrowed some. You can just take it out of my next allowance.”

“Billie, I told you. You can’t spend while I’m unemployed. We’re in budget mode, and I don’t know when Rick’s gonna find us work again.”

“So borrow some from Rick.”

“Did you not just hear me say ‘us’, as in Rick and I are both looking for work? Because he sure as hell shouldn’t be spending.” _Oh, but he certainly is. Probably worse than Billie._

“He’s Hollywood no matter what status he’s in, he’s loaded. Just get some from him.”

Cliff grits his teeth in frustration, whispering through them ‘that’s not how this works’ out of ear shot as his fists started to clench tightly until the anger can’t tighten them anymore and he lets out a silent scream to get it all out. He was thankful he at least was capable of calming himself down because he honestly didn’t know what he’d do to her otherwise. He pockets what’s left of his money and throws on his denim jacket and goes out to find his wife.

“I’m heading to Rick’s. We’re watching the World Series so I’ll be over there every day until it’s done, alright? You can take care of yourself?”

“I’ve been taking care of myself. When’s the last time you’ve done anything for me?”

“I make the money to buy your shit. Buy the food. Put a roof over your head. I’m sorry if it’s not enough, alright? Sorry you thought when I said I was in the Hollywood business that I was making actor level money. Or that I was one.”

“Well you were too pretty to be a stuntman at the time, what was I supposed to think when I hear that word?”

“‘Were’’at the time’? The fuck is that suppose to mean?”

Billie snorts and gives him this look like ‘are you for real?’, like he’s stupid enough to be asking this. “Your face… your body has gotten so fucked up from all the scars. No one would hire you for your looks now.”

“But you said… when we met you said you liked them. That it showed I was a man.”

“The war scars. Those are the ones you got for being a man. The rest you got for playing make believe in order to make your loser buddy look good. There’s no bravery in falling off a horse just because they can’t hurt his pretty face.”

Cliff purses his lips so tight he swears they’ll turn permanently white, the sound of frustration escaping his nostrils like a tea kettle. He decides it’s best to leave now before he does something he’ll regret. Billie calls something out after him but he ignores it, not needing any more kindle thrown on the fire.

Cliff has parked further down the street from their apartment than he remembered but it was long enough to help him calm down again since driving this angry was a recipe for disaster. He lets out a loud exasperated sigh as he drops down into the driver’s seat, head back against the rest as he looks up to the sky. Almost involuntarily he felt his hand reach up to feel the scar on his forehead, tracing along the mark back and forth with his finger. He remembered when he got this; there was enough blood pouring out of his forehead that Rick thought he was dying from a cracked opened head. A soft chuckle escaped him as he reminisces about watching Rick run around like a chicken with his head cut off in full panic. He wasn’t sure he ever saw anyone that concerned about him before over a cut. Not his parents. Definitely not Billie. But Rick…

“Goddamn, I don’t deserve a friend like that. I think he’d make a better wife than my current one despite all his faults.” 

The thought suddenly made him feel depressed. If he was given the choice who he’d rather spend time with, Billie or Rick, he’d take Rick without hesitation. Yes, he’d give up sex and everything. Well, unless Rick was into that. Cliff had his suspicions… as anyone would have over a bachelor in Hollywood with little to no evidence that they even enjoy the company of women. Maybe Cliff has complained so much about Billie that Rick decided marriage wasn’t for him. Maybe. But right now thinking of Rick in that ‘more than friends’ way was giving him these warm fuzzies inside him that made him feel alarmed. Not because he was against being a faggot, no, but he always pride himself on being a loyal person as one of his best qualities. And right now, the person he vowed to be loyal to for the rest of his life in front of a judge is not the one making him feel this way.

By the time Cliff finally reached Rick’s the game had already started. Rick opened the door to greet him, exclaiming that maybe he thought he bailed on him and Cliff gave him the load down on what happened with Billie. 

“Speaking of which, do you mind if I could spot a few for gas? My baby is running on empty at this point. I’ll pay you back.”

“No, no. Don’t worry about paying me back. Here… keep the change.” Rick stuffs a $20 in the pocket of Cliff’s jacket and pats it to reassure it’s in there. “Come in, grab a cold one, make yourself at home. Pizza is on the way.”

“Alright, sounds good.” Cliff tosses his jacket on the couch, makes a beeline for the kitchen and grabs a couple beers. “Who’s starting pitching for LA? Koufax?”

“Yup. Bottom of the first, two strikes, no score yet. And the Dodgers are still Brooklyn to me. Why the fuck we got teams moving across country here anyways? The Rams came here from Cleveland. The fucking Lakers, LAKERS, Jesus Christ, came from Minnesota. The place where there actually fucking are lakes. Didn’t even change the damn name, what were they thinking?”

“Probably just like the rest of these mid-westerners like you wanting to move out here to strike it big in Los Angeles. And you really think these athletes would rather be in the sun or the snow mid-season.”

Rick waves his hand in dismissal. “Fine fine, you made your point. Lord knows I escaped that weather as well.”

“I heard the NHL is thinking of expanding out here.”

“Hah! Get the fuck out of here. Hockey in California? Who the fuck would go for that, shit. If you’re saying people are coming out here to avoid that weather than they sure as hell won’t pay to sit in an arena and freeze their asses off.”

Cliff shrugs as he hears the doorbell buzz. “Pizza time! You got money for him?” He watches Rick gesture to the bills on the table and goes to collect their pie when he hears Rick give a holler, “Howard with the double!”

“Shit, I’m missing it. Here, kid. Keep the change,” Cliff says as he takes the box and stuffs the cash in the pizza boy’s hand. 

“Uh, excuse me, sir? Is this really Rick Dalton’s house? As in bounty hunter Jake Cahill?”

It was like Rick had radar or something that picked up on adoring fans as Cliff couldn’t even get an answer out before Rick makes his appearance at the door. The pizza kid looked like he was going to faint. “I’ll leave you love birds be,” Cliff says as he gives a smack on Rick’s shoulder and takes the pizza box back to the couch and starts eating right from it. His attention went between the game and back to Rick hamming it up for a total stranger. Let him have it while it lasts, who knows how much longer until Jake Cahill becomes a relic of the past.

“Fuck, four runs while I was gone? Why the hell didn’t you call me over?” Rick sees nearly half the pizza is gone on top of it. “Really, you had to pig the fuck out as well?”

“Hey man, not my fault you took like twenty minutes to show off. Gotta eat it while it’s hot.” Cliff grins and hands the box to Rick to finish off as he pulls out his after dinner cigarette and lights up. 

Not much happened in the game after that exciting four run second inning with another run in the third. Cliff found his eyes shifting to look back at Rick now and then, watching him eat. Despite the noise from the television, the guy’s chewing seemed to come off rather loudly for some reason that it was distracting. Not as distracting as his throat, apparently. Cliff suddenly became fixated on watching it move as Rick swallowed and he got a strange urge to suck on it.

“What the hell has got you so intrigued?” Rick mumbles out with a full mouth of pizza.

Cliff narrows his eyes and takes a drag as he considers how he wants to handle this. With a shrug and nod to himself, he just bluntly goes for it. “I wanna suck your neck.”

If Cliff did not just say something a man would normally not say to another man, he’d be laughing as Rick gagged on some cheese and sausage. Rick finally swallows it properly, tears forming in his eyes and voice rather high. “Excuse me, what the fuck did you say?”

“I said I wanna suck your neck. Suck it. Kiss it. Bite it.” Cliff shows his teeth in a wide smile and makes a very loud and exaggerated biting motion. 

Rick stared back in a complete lost in how to respond before his eyes started darting around frantically as if it would make it any less tense. “Jesus, I… why the fuck w-would I e-ever let you? I-I’m no faggot.”

“Well neither am I, you know that. Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to think those things as well.” Cliff turns his attention back to the game as he slowly sinks into the couch. Best to just let this whole thing drop. 

“M-m-maybe things are-are just so b-bad with B-B-Billie that you, you t-turning in-into one.”

“Hmm… nah. Still like pussy.”

“Th-then don’t say s-such things!”

“Why not? I’ve fooled around with men before, this isn’t something new.”

Rick is looking horrified at this point. “What the fuck, when? Why d-didn’t you ever t-tell me? What if I-I am turning queer?”

“Before I met you. Before Billie. And you don’t catch it like a cold, man. You still like pussy, right?”

At this point Rick was hyperventilating. “I-I don’t know, I don’t know. I fucking haven’t had any since Missouri.”

“Okay, but you do think about it, right? When you…” Cliff makes a double clicking sound as he mimes tugging his cock. 

“N-no… no…” Rick was in tears as it seemed like some truth he had buried deep down was finally coming to light, and Cliff suddenly felt guilty for dragging it out.

“Hey, man. I’m sorry. If it’s men you think about, that’s fine. No judgement. Whatever gets you off, right? Like I said, I’ve done stuff with guys so not like I can play a ‘mightier than thou’ card.”

“No, no! I-I don’t think about men. Just… just...”

“Just about the one who said he wanted to suck your neck?”

Rick bends nearly all the way forward, face buried in his hands as the soft sobbing was audible enough for an answer. Well now Cliff really felt like shit. Sighing, he puts out his cigarette before he gets up and kneels in front of him, softly petting Rick’s hair. “It’s alright, Rick. No need to be ashamed. I’m not. Well, not about fancying you, at least.”

“You don’t fancy me. You just can’t stand your wife.” Rick’s words were muffled by his hands but said with complete certainty. No way could he have possibly lucked out in that Cliff really was into him on his own without being influenced by his wife’s negativity. 

“So you don’t want me to kiss you?”

Rick lifts his head, eyes and cheeks red, tear trails going every which way on his face. He opens his mouth to say something but Cliff doesn’t give him a chance; Cliff roughly grabs the back of his hair to keep his head still and goes in for a soft but deep kiss with still smoky breath. Rick clearly didn’t know how to respond since he just moved his mouth like a fish and let Cliff chase his lips before Cliff finally caught the bottom one in his teeth and tugs. “F-fuck, Cliff…”

Cliff pulls back and moves his hands to firmly cup Rick’s cheeks, thumbs wiping away any last trace of tears. “You want to fuck? You were just crying about being kissed! One base at a time, man.” He keeps it light with an encouraging smile and playful laugh trying lift Rick’s mood. 

“No no,” Rick says returning the smile as best he can. “I just haven’t been kissed like that in years is all. If ever.”

“Me neither, man. That was the most passion I’ve gotten in who knows how long.”

“Shit, it’s been that bad with her, huh? I didn’t fucking even do anything except sit there like an idiot.”

“Good thing I’m into idiots then.” A loud roar came from the television and Cliff whipped his head around, remembering they were supposed to be watching a game. “Ah, damn Yankees got two. In the eighth. That means unless something happens I only got one more inning until I gotta go.”

“I’ll take it then.” Rick didn’t know why the pendulum that was his mood always swung from one extreme to the other, but he was suddenly brimming with confidence that when Cliff turned his head back around with an inquisitive ‘hmm?’, he gave him his own aggressive kiss. Cliff Booth wasn’t going to be the only one with surprises tonight.

It was a surprise but a welcome one for Cliff. He was downright worried he nearly destroyed Rick and their friendship with his cheeky admission of affection. But seeing that Rick was now on board only made Cliff want to push how far this could go even more. He slowly climbs up into the chair and straddles Rick’s lap, mouths never breaking apart as he pushes Rick deeper into the back of the chair pinning him down.

The realization of all the weight on him snapped Rick back to reality as he pulled apart for a desperate breathe. “C-Cliff… what the fuck…”

“I told you. All the things I wanted to do to your neck, right? Now I can’t have you moving too much. One wrong move and I might slit your jugular or something.”

Rick couldn’t tell what he was feeling more: terrified or horny as hell. He shifts a bit trying to get comfortable while keeping his groin and any tent that might get pitched away from Cliff. “Alright. Fine. Do your worst, you animal.”

Cliff flashes him a wolfish grin and gives him small ‘aroooo’ before firmly grabbing Rick’s chin and pushes his head back against the chair, fully exposing his neck. He asks Rick to try moving his head and adjusts the pressure of his hold until Rick is unable to. Perfect.

“Well I must be a vampire because this looks fucking delicious.” He could sense Rick rolling his eyes at that but Rick sure did change his tune and started moaning as soon as Cliff’s tongue hit his flesh, tracing the muscles in his neck. Then the teeth started to skim along back down the same paths, causing Rick to swallow more air. 

“Shit, Cliff. You’re g-going to make me blow if-if you k-keep that up.”

“Man, I’ve barely done anything! Now where’s that juicy apple of yours… ah, there.” Cliff lets his tongue circle around Rick’s Adam’s apple before gently biting down on it until he knows he’s hitting Rick’s pain threshold and starts sucking on it. This fruit was going to get bruised by the time he’s done with it, that he was certain of; Rick’s soft gasping only encouraged him to attack it more. Finally when he’s had enough, he just starts wildly nipping and licking at every untouched inch he could find, shifting his body to bring a knee up and uses it to check Rick’s arousal level down there. Cliff laughs against Rick’s throat as there was no way Rick was going to be able to deny the existence of that stiff rod in his pants. “Should I stop and let you take care of that?”

“NO! No n-no please, fuck, d-don’t leave me like this!” Rick was sobbing at this point; he can’t even recall the last time his arousal level was this high and the thought of Cliff leaving him hanging like this, well, Cliff Booth would be a fucking dead man. 

“Oh, we beggin’ now, huh? I told you now, just one base at a time. I’m not touching you down there and neither are you. You’re just going to have to get off to my mouth alone.”

“Jesus, Cliff. It huuuuurts,” Rick whines, hoping to get some sympathy. 

“I gotta say. Watching my lead, Rick fuckin’ Dalton, the one everyone has to answer to on set… seeing him completely turn to Silly Putty under me is a funny sight. What would our former crew say if they knew what you looked like right now?”

“D-don’t...p-p-please...no one c-can know.”

“Oh, I know. We’re both fucked if this gets out. That’s what makes this so much more arousing, don’t you think?” Cliff leans in and whispers that last part in Rick’s ear before running along the outside of it with his tongue and then biting hard down on the lobe as if trying to pierce it.

That seemed to do the trick for Rick. His body grew tense and his crying silent for a moment before letting out a sigh as he starts to relax under Cliff, who could already feel the growing wetness where his knee is against Rick’s groin. Cliff finally lets Rick’s head go and Rick yells at the sudden return of needing to control it as it falls sharply forward. “Fuck! That’s going to hurt for awhile,” he complains as he rubs his hands all over his neck. “Gonna be fucking sore.”

“Aww, so you really hated that, huh? Alright, we won’t do that again.” Cliff smirks at the disappointment in Rick’s face before turning back to the television. “Game is over… I best be getting home.”

“Does she really care if you do go home?”

Cliff shrugs as he puts his jacket back on. “Will she care that I’m having an affair?”

“Wait, you’re what? Since when?”

“Oh, I’d say…” Cliff looks down at his watch and does some quick math. “‘Bout 20 minutes ago.”

“So I’m the other woman, so to speak.”

“I guess. I mean, we can just chalk this up to a one time thing between friends, right? Unless you wanted more than this.”

“Shit, Cliff. You’re fucking married. And on top of that, we’re both men.”

“So what are you saying? This doesn’t count as an affair because I’m not messing with another pussy or something? Is that the logic we’re going with?”

“I… I just… I don’t want to get hurt in all this.”

“You won’t. Trust me.”

“The fuck does that mean? You mean if it has to come down to it you’ll choose me over your wife?”

Cliff snorts and looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “I’ve already made my choice, man. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have said a goddamn word. I feel my loyalty has shifted over for awhile now and tonight just… I don’t know, man. I guess the deprivation of feeling wanted by someone got too much for me.” 

Rick rubs his face trying to make sense of all this. “I just wanted to watch a goddamn game with you. That’s all. Just watch a goddamn game…”

“So you don’t want me back tomorrow?”

“Of course I fucking do. But now I’m not expecting to _just_ watch a game, now am I?”

“Heh… depends if you’re interested in reaching second base or not. Anyways, I think we both need to sleep on this. And now you have a little ‘click-click’ inspiration to help you off if you need it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Nah, you gotta reach home plate for that.”


	2. Rounding Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the tacos.

Cliff slept great. Fantastic, even. Hell, even Billie had to comment on it (“Didn’t know you cared so much about the Dodgers.”). God fucking bless those boys in blue giving him an excuse to not be blue balled any longer! He didn’t know if Rick took any of that inspiration from last night to bed after he left, but Cliff certainly did. Well, at least in the shower so the water could drown him out; he can’t appear to be that happy or Billie would be asking a lot more questions besides his sudden peak interest in baseball. He even bought an LA cap he assumed was a cheap knock off at the gas station on the way home yesterday. Might as well go all in on this story while he could.

“Tacos, tacos, hell yeah, tacooooos.” Cliff couldn’t pass up all the taco deals he’s been seeing pop up around town in support of the local team. Wear your gear and shit kind of discounts. Maybe because it’s the first series ever in any sport between the two major markets that people have hyped it up this much. LA vs. NY. Tacos vs. pizza. West coast, best coast mentality. And yet, at its heart for many people still, it’s just NY vs. NY. Fucking transplant city taking Brooklyn’s team away. But more importantly, fuck the Yankees.

Cliff pulls up to Rick’s driveway and scoops up his precious cargo from the front seat, whistling to himself as he makes his way up to Rick’s door and knocks. “Tacos, tacoooos… the fuck man, what’s with the turtle neck? Ain’t cold enough for that yet,” he says as Rick opens the door, glaring back at him with great intensity. 

“Why am I wearing this? I’ll show you why I’m fucking wearing this!” Rick pulls the neck down to reveal Cliff’s handiwork from yesterday, bruises and red marks formed all over. “I had a meeting, you think I could have gone out looking like THIS??”

Cliff lets out a long sharp whistle. “Shit, man. Guess I took it too far. Sorry about that. Here, I brought lunch as a peace offering.” 

“Jesus, Cliff. How many fucking tacos did you buy?” Rick looks through the two large bags not quite able to count just by first look. “Who’d you think you were feeding, the entire team?”

“I could eat them all if I wanted. Don’t worry about it. Sit. Eat. Enjoy.”

Rick chose to sit on the couch instead of his usual chair. Cliff didn’t ask why the change but parked himself next to him all the same. He barely opened the first taco when the Dodgers doubled in two runs in the first.

“Ah shit man, this cap must be good luck.”

“You look dumb in it.”

“I take that to mean, ‘No, Cliff. You’re fine as hell in that cap and probably even finer in the full uniform.’”

“I’ll beat your dumb ass with your tacos until the shells turn to dust.”

“You know what I like best about eating tacos? It’s like eating a holdable pussy.”

Rick really should have learned by now to not eat while Cliff is talking. This was the second day in a row he’s nearly died choking because of Cliff’s out of nowhere comments. “JESUS, are you TRYING to kill me? Why the fuck do you keep saying such shit??”

“But it is, look.” And Cliff started working his tongue over the outside rim of the shell before dipping it in and licking up some of the cheese and sour cream from the top layer, one eye never leaving Rick as he watched the actor react in horror as to what he was witnessing. Cliff pushed his tongue in even deeper and started flicking it furiously over a piece of lettuce sticking out before Rick started screaming at him to stop.

“You have fucking RUINED tacos for me, godDAMN it. FUCK.” 

“Well now you know what I’d do to you if you had a pussy,” Cliff says with a grin as he goes back to eating it like a normal person should.

“I didn’t need to know, I really didn’t. Fuck.”

“Why? Are we jealous of a taco, now? How do you know I wouldn’t perform just as well on your prick?”

Rick groans as he tosses his half eaten taco on the table and opts for a cigarette instead for lunch. “Gonna fucking ruin these for me, too?”

“What, and say it’s like sucking cock? Too easy.”

“Do you just have an oral fixation or something? Because you need fucking help.”

“Thanks, Freud. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Cliff didn’t play around with the tacos anymore when he ate them but he really did manage to finish them all off to Rick’s disgust. The game itself was another one where most of the action was at the front with the Yankees unable to do anything, so once again Cliff looked over at Rick wondering how to unnerve him this time. He lights up his own smoke and settles a hand down on Rick’s thigh. Rick didn’t say a word or look down to acknowledge it; instead, he just takes a drag and blows a puff out a little more aggressive than before, as if to say ‘the fuck are you planning, you asshole?’ Cliff answers with a thigh squeeze and blows his own ‘nothing’ smoke out with a smile. 

They exchange their dumb smoke singals a little bit more, Rick’s increasing in frustration each time while Cliff stayed in the same zen zone, only his grin getting wider each time. Finally Rick couldn’t take the apparent mocking any longer before as he snuffs out his cig in the ashtray and turns his wild eyes towards Cliff. “WELL?!?”

“Hmm, well what?”

“Don’t give me that fucking shit, why is your fucking hand on my thigh?!”

“Oh, so it is. Didn’t notice.”

“Didn’t notice? You fucking SQUEEZED it!” 

“Thought it was a pillow. Want me to move it?”

“Yes, damn it. Move it.”

Cliff smirks and moves it straight onto his groin.

“Move it OFF, dumbnuts. Move it OFF!”

“And how was I supposed to know that’s what you meant, geez.” But Cliff does as he asks and puts his arm around Rick’s shoulders instead. “Is this alright?”

Rick’s mind wanted to say ‘no’ seeing as it forced him into this fussy mode he couldn’t seem to control. He didn’t even want Cliff to take his hand off his thigh in the first place. “No, please, put it back.”

“Back?” Cliff cautiously lets his hand drag down his side and rubs him right where his thigh and hip meet.

“Ah, no, stop, STOP!”

Cliff frowns as he could tell Rick was starting to edge towards one of those mental breakdowns. He puts out his cigarette and pulls Rick into a tight hug. “Rick? What’s wrong? You can talk to me. I won’t judge.”

“I-I don’t know wha-what’s wrong, that’s the problem! My mind is all over the place on-on so many extremes. I want it and I don’t at the same time and I don’t understand why I feel this way.” Rick leans on him and breaks down sobbing. “I’m such shit. Such shit. I’ll n-never be able to hold down a re-relationship like this. You’re much better off with B-B-Billie.”

“Oh, Rick…” Cliff rubs his back and rocks him gently as he lets the other man take as long as he needs to to cry it out. 

“I… I really enjoyed last night,” Rick finally mumbled against his shoulder. “N-not angry about my-my neck. Sorry if I-I acted like I was.”

“Well that’s good to know. Maybe you better stock up on those turtlenecks then.”

Rick laughs as he wipes away the tears from his eyes with his thumb. “Make-up will have a f-fucking field day trying to cover all that shit up.”

“Yeah, they will. So you want me to continue or you gonna freak out on me again?”

“Hmm? Oh… yeah sure… I’ll try not to.”

“Do you mind?” Cliff rubs his hand along Rick’s belt, thumb tracing over the raised ‘R’ on the belt buckle. What a fucking narcissist.

“Go-go a-ahead…” Rick looks away afraid if he watches he’ll want it to stop.

“Hey, hey… look at me, alright? Not gonna hurt you.” Cliff waits for Rick to look back on his own before reaching in front of him and rolls him onto his lap so he’s facing him. “See? You’re on top so if you need to stop you can just hop right off. Won’t stop you, I promise.” 

Rick takes a deep breath and nods. “But you’ll still lead.”

“Well of course. Only time I get to when you’re involved.” Cliff took Rick’s laugh as a sigh he was relaxed again and starts to slowly unbuckle him. “No, eyes up on me. Don’t watch my hands. Kiss me even, if it’ll distract you.”

Rick lifts his eyes but doesn’t know how to go about kissing him when Cliff wasn’t even looking up as he was too preoccupied with getting the belt off. Instead he pulls that dumb cap off Cliff’s head and tosses it aside, his eyes going to the scar on Cliff’s forehead as he reaches out to trace it in the same way Cliff did yesterday. “I remember when you got this. Scared the shit out of me that you were gonna bleed to death.”

Cliff huffs as he finally slips the belt off. “Makes me ugly, doesn’t it? Billie says so.”

“Well I like it. I know you got it because of me. You do a lot of things for me so I don’t get hurt.”

“Still a stupid thing to do just to save your pretty face. Got them all over; my body is a mess.” Billie’s words were starting to eat away at him. He’s never felt this self conscious in front of Rick before. “Lift your ass so I can get these off.”

Rick does as he’s asked while leaning in to kiss and lick the mark back and forth. Cliff closes his eyes trying to hold back a moan as he pulls Rick’s pants and briefs down to around his knees and shifts Rick’s legs around until he gets them off all the way. He lets his hands roam up the back of Rick’s thighs and over his ass feeling the unmarked flesh. “You feel pretty.”

“I’m sure you do, too,” Rick moans as he rests his cheek against Cliff’s forehead and lets his own hands slide up under Cliff’s shirt. He can feel the blemishes and dips in his flesh covering more surface than he thought there would be. “May… m-may I see?”

Cliff knew there was no point in arguing as he unceremoniously pulls his shirt off. “There, happy?”

Rick’s breath hitched as he takes him in, his mind wanting to ask about every single one of these scars. The whole who, what, when, where, why of it all. Especially that big one on his shoulder that was calling out to him. “I don’t think they’re ugly. I think they make you unique, one of a kind. If she doesn’t see that then her fucking lost.”

“Heh, now look who’s stroking whose ego. Much appreciated, though.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do. That’s why I appreciate it.” Cliff reaches out to gently grab the side of Rick’s face and pulls his forehead down to his, rubbing their noses together. “Look, now you got me getting all soft.”

“Well now, let’s fix that, shall we?” Rick grabs Cliff’s wrist and pulls his hand off him and pushes Cliff’s arm straight up. He gives Cliff a smirk as he leans in to lick the length of the long scars near his elbow and gives him a kiss and nip in the pit. 

“And you were saying I had the oral fixation. Guess I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Shut up and take care of me already,” Rick growls as he nips a little harder. 

“Whatever you say, partner.” Cliff wets his thumb and circles it directly on the head of Rick’s semi-hardon. Rick curses under his breath and stops what he’s doing, hiding his face behind his arm. “Ah, shit. That’s enough to get you to stop?”

“Fuck off. You went right for the kill to start.”

“That’s how I roll.” Cliff presses his thumb down a little harder making Rick dig his nails in deeper on his arm, guaranteed to leave those half-moons there for awhile. He hears the first level of excitement coming from the television in some time as he looks over Rick’s shoulder and rests his chin there to see what’s happening. “Dodgers up 4-0 now. Eighth inning.”

“Jesus, Cliff. Stop putting me in these spots so close to the end of the game and rushing things.”

Cliff just smiles as he buries his face in Rick’s neck trying to use his nose to somehow push down the collar of the turtleneck. “Damn shirt neck is keeping me from my prize.”

“Good. That’s what you get for going overboard first night.” 

“You realize I have your bare ass in reach and could spank you for getting sassy with me.” But Cliff just says that to throw Rick off guard for the moment. With one hand now firmly gripping Rick’s cock, he breaks his other arm away from Rick’s grasp and wraps it around his back below his shoulders and pulls him in tightly against him so Rick can barely move. Cliff can’t help but beam as he can sense Rick’s heart rate just went up while all but submitting in his arms without resistance. “Well fuck, Rick. I think I felt your prick just twitch from all that. Guess you like being restrained more than you realize.”

Rick tries to think of some clever reply but all he can do at this point is mewl and whine as his lower half squirms wanting more contact from Cliff’s hand. He no longer cared about putting on a stubborn front; Cliff had him right where Cliff wanted him and Rick was at where Rick secretly wanted to be. It was a silent compromise they both realized they had reached and Rick just closes his eyes and lets his head limply rest against Cliff’s to sign off on it. 

The only sounds in the room for the next several minutes were Mel Allen and Vin Scully’s commentary being punctuated with the vigorous friction Cliff’s hand was creating, Rick’s moaning, and Cliff’s lips smacking all over Rick’s face and the sliver of neck he could get. He made sure not to bite this time to spare Rick from any more territorial markings he might leave behind that would be harder to cover up.

Finally Rick reaches that higher octave and everything suddenly falls silent after, except for Mel and Vin painting their visual picture. Cliff couldn’t take his eyes off Rick during his entire orgasm; he honestly didn’t know when he last made someone feel this way. He always got the feeling Billie was faking most of the time, and even if she wasn’t it still felt disingenuous. But watching Rick just now felt fucking real and Cliff’s seen Rick act. This was no acting.

It takes a few moments for Rick’s eyes to flutter open and realizes Cliff’s been staring at him during this whole thing. His insecurities suddenly rush back and hit him all at once, flushing his cheeks even more than they currently were as he buries his head almost all the way behind Cliff’s neck.

“Hey now, nothing to be embarrassed about. If you enjoyed it then you enjoyed it, ain’t nothing wrong with that. I know I certainly did.”

Rick doesn’t say anything other than letting out a soft huff as a response. Cliff lets him just rest there despite his own arms starting to cramp from still tightly holding him and the intense need to clean his hand off before the cum completely dries. But still after all this, he’s letting Rick dictate how things should go. Guess some things never change.

“I-I don’t… don’t wanna be the other wo-woman…” Rick finally whispers a bit later.

“You’re not, man. You’re my main man.”

“No, Cliff. You kn-know what I… I mean.”

Cliff sighs knowing Rick was right. He was fucking over both Rick and Billie, although he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about hurting her right now. Rick on the other hand he hated that when it came straight down to it, he knew he was just toying with Rick’s emotions. And until something was done about his marriage, Rick was only ever going to be the equivalent of his mistress. This situation wasn’t fair to anyone but his own selfish needs refused to let him quit, and if Rick was still willing to go along with it, then he found no reason to, either.

Finally there was some cheering from the home crowd as the Yankees finally scored in the bottom of the ninth, but it was going to be too little too late. Cliff felt maybe there was some metaphor in there about his own situation but didn’t want to use the brain power to think of one. “Guess the Dodgers are going up 2 games on the road. Probably should root for the Yankees next game.”

“And why the ever living fuck would I root for the goddamn Yankees?”

“Best of seven series. I don’t want to be over here for only four games.”

“... Goddamnit.”


	3. Rounding Third

Travel day. The logistics completely slipped Cliff’s mind; of course the teams wouldn’t magically appear across the country for a game the following day. Well they could but that’s a shitty thing to spring on these athletes. They are human, after all.

So instead, Cliff finds himself sitting on his couch at home by the phone, cigarette in one hand and beer in the other staring at absolutely nothing. He probably should be out right now helping Rick with job hunting but that was the last thing he wanted to do with Rick right now; they would never get out the door if he went over there at this moment. So he’s just sitting there, waiting. Waiting for Billie to leave for her friend’s birthday dinner. Waiting for Rick to call between the hours Billie is suppose to be gone and he gets back from his meeting. Just a whole lot of fucking waiting.

“Don’t sit there being useless, Cliff. Go get a fucking job. This is why my friends think you’re a fucking loser.” Billie comes in in the middle of putting on her fancy dangling earrings. Cliff regrets spending as much as he did on those for their first anniversary. He thought they were hideous but it’s the only thing she wanted. Wanted probably only because they were expensive more so than actually being pleasing to the eye.

“So you talk shit about me to your friends, huh? Not surprised.” Cliff had over half a full can left but he downs the rest of his beer out of frustration.

“Well what the fuck do you want me to tell them? They’ve seen with their own eyes what you’re like. Their husbands don’t even want to be your fucking friend. You have to be a real fucking loser to not have male friends.”

Cliff slowly crushes the can in his hand trying to remain calm. _Rick likes me. Rick doesn’t think I’m a loser. God, I sound like a child._ “The fuck are you saying? Rick is male friend.”

“Please, Cliff. He’s a fucking queer, they don’t count.”

It was a good thing Billie was still looking in the mirror and missed Cliff’s telling expression. “Who the fuck told you such a thing?”

“Everyone thinks it. How the fuck can you work with him and not think that? Have you ever seen him with a woman? Has he ever talked about them?”

“I guess not. But I haven’t hung out with him that much outside of work and the occasional drink and game.”

“Find out tomorrow. The girls and I could use some juicy gossip.”

_Oh, you wouldn’t even be able to handle a fraction of the gossip about Rick Dalton, especially when your friends find out who’s making him come._

Cliff picks at the tab on his can, pressing down and letting it spring. He blows his cheeks up and lets the air slowly leak out between his lips as he gets up the courage to ask the question he’s been wanting to for months. “Billie. Why the fuck are we still married?”

“Because I need a husband and I haven’t found anyone better, that’s why.”

“So you’re just gonna fucking keep me chained to you until you do?” _Guess what, I HAVE found someone better. Get me the fuck out of this commitment._

“What, not like you’re going to find anyone else, either.”

_I want to fucking SCREAM._

“Just go. Have fun. Talk all the shit you want about me. I don’t fucking care anymore.”

“Clearly.”

It took all his self control to not throw his can at her face. Instead he opts for against the wall well after he hears her steps disappear down the stairwell outside. “Goddamnit.”

Cliff doesn’t know how long he sat there chain smoking but he finished what was left of his pack and started in on a new one. He was on the second one out of there when the phone rang, nearly dropping it on his lap as the sound jolted him badly enough he thought maybe he was under attack. Damn PTSD.

“Hello. Rick?”

“Yeah, buddy. It’s me.” 

“How’d it go today.”

“Well it went. They said I-I wasn’t right for the part. But they said someone is casting for some TV movie that’s a Western. Said I should give them a ring.”

“And did you?”

“Well n-not y-yet. I uh. Well. I wanted to talk to you first.”

“You don’t need my permission or opinion if you should go for it, man.”

“No, I just… just wanted to talk.”

And so did Cliff, but he wasn’t going to tell Rick he’s been sitting by the phone for the last few hours doing absolutely nothing of importance just waiting to hear his voice again. “We can, after you call. Go on.”

“Fine. I-I’ll call back when I’m done.”

Cliff hangs up and blows a raspberry towards himself. “You really are a fucking loser, Cliff.” He decides to finally be productive and goes to make himself a sandwich as he hasn’t eaten anything all day. Piled high with all the fixings just how he liked it, rationing be damned. He returns to his nesting spot on the couch and starts in on it, the phone finally ringing again as he’s finishing up the first half.

“Yaaarh?”

“Jesus, Cliff. Is your mouth full?”

“Yarh.”

“I’m gonna fucking call back later then, I’m tired of you mouth fucking your food.”

“Okay, okay. I swallowed.”

“I’m sure you did.”

Oh, if only Rick could see the devilish grin he had on his face. “Ya know, that’s what I was planning to do tomorrow.”

“Speaking of which,” Rick says, ignoring the innuendo, ”no food during the game. Eat beforehand if you’re hungry, I’m not going to die on a third attempt to kill me.”

“But I’m becoming one of those superstitious types. The Dodgers will only win if Rick Dalton chokes during the game. You’ll be blamed for the loss.”

“Thought that’s what we wanted, to extend this to seven games.”

“Fair enough.” Cliff takes a bite of his other half of the sandwich and makes enough of a chewing sound he’s sure Rick can hear him, as confirmed by the annoyed groan on the other end.

“So anyways, I got a meeting later this week with the casting director. Says he’ll take a look at some _Bounty Law_ episodes for reference.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I’m sure there’s stunt work for you in it.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I’m currently lying ass naked in bed.”

Well that piece of sandwich went down the wrong pipe; now he knew why Rick’s been so angry about it, this shit _hurts_. He’s coughing and wheezing, gasping for air, trying to clear everything out before he can talk again. “You. You _prick_.”

“Cliff. What’s fucking wrong?”

Jesus, what wasn’t? Cliff stares down at the rest of his sandwich trying to figure out what to say. He felt so defeated but didn’t want Rick to know any indication of that. “Billie. She, uh. She won’t go for a divorce.”

Silence.

“Rick? You still there?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know where that leaves us. If you want to stop all this foolin’ around, we can. I won’t drag you along any further. This is my shit to deal with and I can’t physically force her to sign any papers so I’m stuck until she wants out. You be best finding your own lady to care for you. Or man. Whatever.”

Silence.

“Rick?”

“You’re still coming over tomorrow, right?”

“Right. Of course.” 

“Good. Glad it’s gonna be at a proper time during the day. Fucking East coast start times are a killer.”

“Right.” Well if Rick was going to completely ignore his message than he might as well also drop it. But he also wondered if he should warn Rick what Billie and her friends were saying about him, but that’s probably best to discuss in person. “So. Are you really lying ass naked in bed?”

“Wouldn’t you like to fucking know.” Cliff could almost hear that smirk through the phone line.

“I’m sure I won’t get a straight answer either way.”

\--

“Jesus Christ, will ANYTHING happen in this game, shit. I’m getting more action than they are. And goddamnit, Cliff, stop using your teeth!”

“Oh, but they’re better to eat you with, my dear.”

If these two thought there wasn’t much happening in the first two games, this one was worse. Dodgers scored one run in the first but since then, nothing from either side. Didn’t help that they were hoping to at least know if they were getting a guaranteed game 5 before the day was through, but it was once again heading into the eighth and it wasn’t looking promising.

As far as their own situation was concerned, Cliff was rather amused with how they got into tonight’s position. There was no break down or crying from Rick. Hell, he wasn’t even skittish or flustered in the slightest. In fact, Cliff would say Rick was overly confident and more full of himself than usual; must be his mood swings going from one extreme to the other. So during the last inning when Rick suddenly whistles at him from his chair and points down between his spread legs with a straight arm (“I heard you swallow.”), Cliff couldn’t help but feel it was only right to oblige him for being so bold; he didn’t mind playing service top for awhile.

“Not directly on. Fucking don’t need it all marked up like my neck,” Rick grumbles as he pulls out a new cigarette and lights up.

Cliff gives him an over-the-top sad puppy dog face and nips his inner thigh instead. Rick knows he can’t argue since it’s not directly on like he said. “You are the worst dog. Who needs one with you around.”

“I was always thinking of getting one. But Billie was never into the idea, kinda like most any idea I have.” Shit, Billie. Cliff hadn’t thought about her at all since he left to come over here. Rick didn’t bring her up, either, even though Cliff was so sure he would since he mentioned she didn’t want the divorce.

“Hey hey, don’t think about her, alright? Fuck, if she doesn’t see any worth in you then don’t waist any brain power on her. Now get back to sucking already.”

_Alright, where the hell is the real Rick Dalton who cries at being kissed?_

Cliff finds the teeth habit harder to break than he realized despite not having sucked a guy’s dick in well over a decade. That was his specialty. He got his reputation off it in ‘those’ circles during the war. Want a guy with a little extra ‘bite’ to his ‘bark’? Line up for that young pup. Don’t piss him off or the medics will be asking why your prick needs stitches for teeth marks.

And yet, while he tried just about every technique he knew with his tongue and lips, Rick barely paid any attention to him other than to tell him off if it got too sharp for him; no way the game was that engaging to barely react to what he’s doing. This was like some twisted powerplay with Rick trying to be in control. It was honestly no different than the attitude he had towards people on set, that Alpha dog he wants people to think he is but is really far from it. But in this setting? The worry that Rick would just turn into another Billie flashed through his mind. Another person to just walk all over him. 

_You’re in control. You’re in control. Rick is not Billie. Rick will still listen to you. You can still lead whenever you want. Who’s the oldest here? The military vet? The one who keeps the other from completely falling apart?_

_But you’re not in control of Billie. Billie has no need for you yet you’re stuck with her. You’re just the ‘M’ in the relationship status box on forms, nothing more._

It was a damn miracle Cliff stopped his teeth from slamming down in rage just now or Rick would be making the most embarrassing headlines tomorrow: ‘Actor Rick Dalton, former star of NBC’s _Bounty Law_ , had his penis bitten off by his own stuntman. More details at 11.’ 

“I need a break, man. I can’t do this right now,” Cliff says as he slowly gets up.

“The fuck, is this one of your sick twisted pranks? Get me all full masted and leave me hanging?”

Cliff puts his hands on his hips, looking down and shakes his head before making eye contact directly with Rick. Tears look like they threatened to spill and it was taking every ounce of his strength not to let that happen. “No. It’s not. She’s gotten into my head, damnit. And I don’t want to hurt you by accident if she stays there and keeps mentally badgering me.”

Rick could only assume this is what he himself looked like before he completely lets go, the only difference is Cliff is better at keeping that dam up than he is. Now wasn’t the time to be selfish about his own needs, something Rick knew he needed to work on; right now he had to be the strong one while Cliff deals with whatever he’s going through. “It’s fine. I’ll just finish myself off, I’ve gotten real good at doing so lately.” He gives Cliff a reassuring smile that he means it and not to worry about him. 

“Right, I’ll be back in a bit.” Cliff gives him a kiss on the forehead to reaffirm how sorry he is. He grabs his open can of Chattanooga and slips out back, thankful that the TV was on the opposite wall and Rick was stuck in his chair until he takes care of himself so he couldn’t see anything he might do. Cliff had the sudden urge to fling anything and everything in his sight off the side of the hill, nearly doing so to the chairs overlooking the city before settling down in one instead. The sun was starting on its way down so he throws his glasses on and almost instantaneously he just lets the waterworks fall. Not in the sobbing, sniffling way Rick would. He guessed if there was a “manly” way to cry, this would probably be it. Plus it wasn’t like it mattered if he did break down like Rick when no one was watching. And yet… he still couldn’t.

The sun had finally touched the edge of skyline when he heard the door slide open. He finishes his beer and crushes his can trying to get any last bit of anger he was feeling out before he talks to Rick. “Dodgers won?”

“Yeah. 1-0 so nothing else happened since that first inning. Guess they don’t want us to have extra time together.” Rick sits down in the chair next to him holding two more beers and offers one to Cliff.

“And I already fucked today up and wasted the time we did have,” he mumbles as he takes Rick’s offering. 

“Yeah, well, usually that’s me who fucks that up. All the fucking time. Don’t feel bad, alright? You had one bad day-”

“Oh, longer than that. It’s just got me to the breaking point.”

“Okay, however long you’ve had it bad. But you’ve been an absolutely fucking rock compared to me. You can take an off day if you need it. Hell, have a whole fucking week.”

Cliff smiles as he opens his can. “Thanks, man. I needed to hear that. And you know what else I’ve noticed today?”

“What?”

“You haven’t stuttered once today. Not one damn time.”

Rick opens his mouth to say something but feels as soon as he does it’s going to be all stutters to make up for not having any. Instead he just nods and looks out over the setting sun, letting his mind relax a bit before speaking. “Guess I don’t when I’m feeling alright about myself.”

“You’re Rick fuckin’ Dalton. You always should feel alright about yourself. If I’m allowed to have bad days, you’re allowed to have some good ones, too. But you know what?”

“What?”

Cliff leans in to whisper in Rick’s ear, “I think your stutter is adorable.”

Rick’s face noticeably jumped several shades of red darker. “Th-th-thanks.”

 _Fucking adorable._ Cliff beams as he scoots his chair up against Rick’s and pulls him close. “‘Scars’ and ‘Stutter’ That’s what we should call ourselves. Our imperfections we hate but the other one appreciates for whatever reason.”

“But the s-scars are at least sexy. N-nothing is about n-not t-talking right.”

“Yeah, but when it gets worse around me, it’s sweet. I assumed you were just nervous because you were into me.”

“I’m th-that obvious, huh?”

“Heh. Maybe a bit.” Suddenly what Billie said popped into his mind: _‘He’s a fucking queer.’ ‘Everyone thinks it.’_ “You know, maybe you should think about at least trying to look like you’re interested in women. In case people start to think you’re queer. Don’t want to derail your career and all.”

Rick closes his eyes and rests his head on Cliff’s shoulder, a soft smile forming on his lips. “Well if anyone asks, tell them I’m seeing a pretty blonde right now. One I’m quite smitten by, even.”

“Well I’m sure the blonde will pass that information along.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I first saw the movie, it reminded me of my great-aunt’s out in west LA where we’d go swimming each summer as in that house was a 60s time capsule up until she passed a decade ago. But I later found out she herself also pulled the ‘refuse to get a divorce’ thing out of spite so my great-uncle could never marry again, and I spent my entire life thinking he and his other lady were married since nothing felt like they weren’t. So I guess my great-aunt is subconsciously fuling Billie or something.


	4. Sliding Home

Cliff didn’t get off scot-free last night when he got home. The two hour delay from his estimate return did not go unnoticed, and while he did get stuck in some of the Dodger Stadium traffic, it wasn’t enough to convince Billie otherwise. 

“Where you really at Rick’s or were you somewhere else?”

“Where the hell would I be? A bar maybe but I’d still be there for the game. Call Rick up if you want, he could vouch for me.”

Billie still didn’t sound like she was buying it but she amazingly dropped it for now. Cliff wasn’t quite sure he trusted this but she didn’t ask for a number. 

The next morning Cliff decided he should at least attempt to put her in a good mood. If he was stuck with her indefinitely he might as well make the best of it. There was a box of pancake mix and some bacon that was easy enough to cook up that she hopefully wouldn’t have much to critique. 

“Are you trying to fucking poison me?”

“No? Why don’t you actually try it before accusing me of trying to murder you.” Cliff grabs a pancake, wraps it around bacon and dips in syrup before taking a bite. “See? Not dead.” He goes about cleaning up the frying pan and mixing bowl trying to distract himself. 

“Could you leave me Rick’s number? I’m going to call him to verify you were there.”

Cliff sighs and scribbles it down and slides it over. “Go ahead. I’m sure you’ll be disappointed to know I wasn’t out with someone else. Clean your plate when you’re done, I’m going to shower.” 

Well if Billie was apparently under the impression he was having an affair with another woman (she’s not completely wrong), he might as well just do whatever the hell he wants with himself. And Rick would either appreciate the self-care or hate it and he was fine with either happening. He shaves after getting out of the shower and finds a musky aftershave he’s forgotten about in the back of the cabinet. It smells alright to him still so he splashed some on and combs his hair more than normal until he thinks everything is as neat as he can get it. 

Next was the closet which he hasn’t browsed in awhile as he hasn’t had many occasions lately for nicer clothes. Buried in the back he finds a nice long sleeve plaid he’s now thinking he might have gotten from Rick as a Christmas present during maybe their second season together on _Bounty Law_. Clearly it hasn’t been worn since the tag was still on but figures he might as well see if Rick remembers it. 

“Why are you all dressed up for watching a game? And what the fuck is that smell?”

Cliff rolls his eyes and pockets his keys and wallet. “What, am I not allowed to do something different with myself? Can’t I look decent for once?”

“You never want to look decent.”

“Well tonight I do. I’ll see you when I see you.” And with that, he left without another word. 

—

Cliff has been sitting in his car in Rick’s driveway for at least five minutes. He knows tonight might very well be the last time they see each other outside of work for awhile, and the last few days suddenly made that thought weigh heavily on him. Hell, he barely survived travel day. And right now he kept checking his hair in the rear view mirror like a nervous prom date making sure it’s all in place. 

“So are you ever going to come in? You forget your car isn’t the quietest piece of shit.”

Rick was leaning against the doorway sipping from a mason jar of whatever drink he mixed up. Cliff didn’t know long he was standing there but he’s sure he saw all the personal grooming. “Shit, you caught me and ruined my big entrance,” he says with a chuckle as he walks up the pathway, nervously scratching the back of his head. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough. Why the fuck are you all dressed up? And what the fuck is that smell?”

Cliff’s reaction to Rick’s unbeknownst paraphrasing of Billie’s words got a far different result than when she said it. Instead of contempt, he playfully wraps his arms around Rick’s waist and pulls him in. “Why, you don’t like it? Thought maybe you would.”

“No, i-it's fine. But I swear, I-I-I’ve seen this shirt before.”

“Pretty sure you got me it as a Christmas gift.” 

“D-did I? Might have but nah, it’s something else, hang on. Come on in already.”

Cliff does so and once again goes to stock up on his booze and park himself on the couch, this time lying backside down on the length of it and kicks his feet up on the armrest. He mindlessly watches the pre-game as he keeps sniffing at himself, trying to gage if he really used too much cologne.

“Fucking knew it. See, g-got the exact same shirt.” Rick appeared standing above Cliff, completely proud that he managed to solve the mystery. 

“So let me get this straight, you gift me clothes you yourself also have? Are you subconsciously trying to make me your stunt double look-a-like in real life?”

“I… I guess. D-don’t mean, too. Guess I figured if I look good in it so will you.”

“I mean, it’s sound enough logic. By the way, what did Billie say when she called?”

Rick was busy looking the flannel over, slipping it on over his shirt to see how it fits. “Call? She never called. Why the fuck would she call?”

“Wait, she hasn’t? The fuck is she waiting for… oh.” The lightbulb could almost visibly be seen appearing above Cliff’s head. Of course she’d wait to call during the game and make sure he was actually there. Well shit. That’s going to derail his plans. “Guess no fooling around until she does so. Don’t want to miss it or be out of breath answering.”

“Uh huh… you don’t think I’ve gotten fat, do you? I’ve eaten a lot to cope with the show ending, I’m worried it translated to my gut,” Rick mumbles, completely ignoring the Billie conversation as he tries buttoning the shirt and it gets tighter as he goes down. 

“No, your current shirt is just thick under it. But I also don’t mind a little pudge in the tummy.” Cliff smirks as he gives him a good poke there getting a yelp out of his dough boy. “Come on, game is starting so get settled.”

By settled, Cliff was thinking in his chair and not lounging face down on top of him as he suddenly found Rick doing. “You know, you can’t see lying down like this. You’ll hurt your neck twisting it around constantly.”

Of course Rick just ignores his advice. “The scent is growing on me…” Rick is almost purring as he nuzzles into his neck. “Maybe I have smelt it on you before way back.”

“Probably have.” Cliff lets Rick do what he pleases for the time being since there was no point teasing him until Billie calls. He doesn’t think about how Rick is working his neck or he’s sucking in one place for far too long until it’s too late. “Wait, wait, Rick. Stop what you’re doing right now.”

“What, why?” Rick resurfaces looking worried he did something wrong as Cliff scrambles out from under him and heads towards the bathroom. It wasn’t a loud ‘shit!’ Rick heard coming from there but it was enough to get his mind ready to overreact. 

“Damnit, Rick. It’s going to bruise. Fuck,” Cliff growls as he comes out rubbing his neck furiously as if trying to magically make it vanish.

“Wait, so you can fucking Jackson Pollock my neck but I can’t give you just one?”

“This is different. It’s only going to confirm Billie’s suspicions that I’m cheating. She’s going to murder me.”

“Cliff, you _are_ cheating. Don’t fucking pretend you aren’t just because I’m not a fucking woman. I know she treats you like shit but that doesn’t make you innocent of this. And as for me, I live in a world fueled by gossip. I can cover my neck up all I fucking want in public but make-up isn’t going to keep quiet that they saw that Rick Dalton apparently likes it rough by some mysterious woman. And when the paparazzi tries to hunt her down and realize not only is the woman a fucking man, but his goddamn stunt double, we’re both never working again. So yeah, don’t give me this shit that your situation is more severe than mine.” Rick has never felt this angry at Cliff before. Yes, he realizes Cliff asked if he wanted out over the phone so he knows he’s also guilty of not speaking up sooner. And he knows Cliff is far more confident in his sexuality than he is which is why he’s worried Cliff doesn’t fully grasp the severity of the situation if they’re found out. 

And Cliff knows Rick is completely right. At this point in his life, Rick is the only person he truly cares about and the only one he feels cares in return. But right now he needs to be smarter about his behavior or this isn’t going to last. 

“You’re right, man. I’ve been selfish. It’s not your fault my marriage isn’t fulfilling and I don’t have the life I imagined I’d have by this age, the whole house with the white picket fence and yard with the kids and the dog running around kind of dream we are told to have.”

“I never had that dream. If she didn’t either than why would you ever think we could work?”

“Then maybe you were right. Maybe I’m only into you because I can’t stand my wife.”

Neither of them said anything as only the sound of Sandy Koufax striking out the batter could be heard. As far as Cliff was concerned, there wasn’t a more fitting metaphor for how he was feeling right now. 

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to take off. I think I’ve done more than enough damage here.”

Rick doesn’t even try to convince otherwise. “Alright. Thanks for coming over, anyways. You can let yourself out, right?”

“Right. Later.”

—-

Cliff sat in the back of a crowded bar he and Rick would go to after work when they felt they could use a drink after a long day. If was a ways off from the studio and a bit of a dive but usually Rick could go unrecognized there if they wanted to just spend time together without worrying about Rick’s fame. Right now Cliff could easily be ignored as everyone was too busy focusing on the tiny television behind the bartender; the Dodgers were just one inning away from a sweep. 

“Mind if I join you?”

“Heh. Knew I’d be here, huh?”

“Lucky guess.” Rick slides into the booth with him and looks to check the score. “So they’re really gonna do it? Sweep the damn Yankees.”

“Unless you just jinxed them, seems like it,” Cliff says as he mindlessly stirs his celery stick in his Bloody Mary. “So why did you follow me?”

“Billie called. Told her you weren’t there. Thought I’d give you the heads up but at least she won’t be thinking it was me who left that mark.”

“Alright. Is that the only reason?”

“Nah. D-didn’t feel right watching without you. It’s been a very memorable series; th-thought it’s best we see it through to the end together.”

“Memorable? Man, we weren’t even paying attention half the time,” Cliff says, finally cracking a smile. 

“That was the memorable part. I w-won’t be forgetting it ha-happened any time soon, e-e-even if you want to and pretend it d-didn’t go down.”

Cliff takes a bite of his celery and thinks on it. After all that, Rick didn’t say he regrets it. And as horrible a person it makes him sound, he didn’t regret it either. He just wanted a damn divorce so he could move on with his life but in the end, why not just try to anyways? Billie basically said she was waiting until someone better, and it’s not like he could marry Rick, anyways. “No. It happened. And I’m glad it did.”

“Me, too.”

A roar from the crowd erupted as the final out was made. This place was about to get a lot louder and drunker very shortly. 

“Well I-I best be going before this place gets fucking out of hand. Don’t be a-a stranger, alright?”

“Alright. And you’ll let me know how the audition goes, right?”

“Right. Bye, Cliff.” Rick gives him a pat and a squeeze on the shoulder before departing out the back, leaving Cliff to drown whatever emotions he had left in his drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, the last chapter should be a lot happier and they’ll stop being stubborn but then again, I wasn’t expecting this or the previous ones to be such downers to write. These boys got some major issues lol.


	5. Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicating this smut chapter to my s/o kdm1280 for their birthday today, who has been my RP partner for the last 15 years (oi!) and has put up with my obsession with these two idiots the past few months. Now please go properly watch this movie. <3

_Goddamn, this traffic. Doesn’t help that there are drunks walking everywhere._

Rick had the right idea to bail when he did; Cliff ran out of fingers on how many accidents almost happened, several just getting out of the lot. And now he had to go home and deal with any ‘accidents’ that might happen there. He sure as hell was not ready to face that. Or…

His left turn became a U-turn as he went far enough away from traffic that he could take off at his preferred speed. Maybe he was making a huge mistake but right now he can admit he’s being a coward about not wanting to face Billie. And if he’s already fucked then, well, what’s he got to lose?

Twenty minutes later he’s standing on Rick’s porch knocking furiously every thirty seconds. After the fifth set he’s about ready to accept either Rick can’t hear him from wherever he is or is ignoring him on purpose when the door finally pulls open. Cliff had never been to Rick’s house this late beforehand ore so this was his first time getting a good look at Rick in his robe and whatever he’s got going on underneath. Unfortunately, Cliff couldn’t stop the laugh that came with it. 

“The fuck is so funny?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe simultaneously being surprised by this display and yet, also not. And those legs, mmm boy.”

Rick huffs as his face starts to grow redder. “Wh-what the f-f-fuck you here for?”

“Didn’t want to go home. Figured that doesn’t need explanation why.”

“So get a fucking motel.”

“I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Then find a street walker. Although with all the fucking drunks celebrating they might all be taken up by now.”

Cliff just sighs seeing this was going nowhere. “Alright, I get it. I’ll take off. Sorry for bothering you.” He turns around and heads back to his car getting as far as getting the motor running and pulling out. 

“Wait!” 

Rick made a very last minute decision as Cliff was already halfway out of the driveway by the time he got him to stop. He runs around to Cliff’s side and flings himself hard enough around him that Cliff had to quickly put the car in park to stop it from rolling back. “I don’t want to be alone either, Cliff.”

“Well I’m glad you changed your mind. But you couldn’t have done it like thirty seconds sooner, huh?”

“Oh, shut up. Pull back up and come on in. I gotta go finish what I was doing before you rudely interrupted.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cliff waits until Rick’s heading up the pathway so he can properly pull in again. He head’s inside and sees Rick has occupied the bathroom. Thoughts of Rick doing a nightly skin care routine like his wife does flashed through his mind. “So are you onto the facial mask, now?”

“I can fucking kick you out again.”

“Fine, I’ll just be in the bedroom then.” He hears no response to that idea so he just makes his way Rick’s room. Apparently Rick didn’t make his bed today, but Cliff’s never been in here before so he didn’t know if that was a common habit or not. And seeing how Rick was definitely the neater one of the two of them, it was surprising. He sits on the edge of the bed and slips his Moccasin boots and belt off as he looks around trying to get any other read of the place. It felt pretty much like the rest of the house complete with posters from his filmography; the thought of yourself watching you sleep felt a bit weird to Cliff and he wasn’t too keen on the idea of at least three Rick’s judging him in here. Lord knows one is enough.

“Already making yourself at home, huh?” Rick asks as he comes in and goes to his closet. “You want to borrow anything to sleep in?”

“Why, because we’re already a match in everything you own? Are you interested in sharing a wardrobe?”

“Huh? N-no, shit, th-that’s too...too…”

“Aww, I’m just teasing you man.” Cliff grins as he unbuttons his shirt and drops it in the pile of his other belongings. “Why don’t you let me try on that robe you have on. Don’t think I’ve ever worn something that nice looking in my life.”

“Don’t fucking stretch it or you owe me a new one,” Rick says with a warning as he takes it off, tosses it to him and watches him put it on. “It looks ridiculous on top of jeans. Take them off.”

“Ah, you sure about that? I might have decided to uh, forgo underwear this morning.”

“... Of fucking course you did.”

Cliff smirks as he takes the robe off and hands it back Rick before rolling into bed. “Too fancy for me. But adorable on you at least.”

Rick sighs as he hangs the robe back up. “Sure you don’t want anything to sleep in? Jeans can’t be comfortable.”

“I’m fine. I’ll feel even better when you finally get that pretty little ass over here and join me.” Cliff shifts onto his side and pats the space next to him, giving him bedroom eyes.

“Y-you prick. Th-this is my bed. If anyone is d-doing the f-fucking inviting it’s me.”

Cliff shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He rolls back out of bed, grabs Rick scooping him up wedding style, and carries him over and practically throws him into the dead center of the bed. “Alright, invite me.”

Rick lands with an ‘oof!’ on his back. “I mean, you’ll fucking let yourself in no matter what I say, right?”

“So is that a yes?”

“Fine. Come in,” Rick says, rolling his eyes and then screams when Cliff jumps higher into the air than he expected it was possible for him to do and lands perfectly above him, arms and legs on either side without touching him.

“Hi.”

“How the fuck did you do that???”

“You know I can do other stunts besides falling off a damn horse, right?”

“Yeah, but _Jesus_ , you were like a damn cat with that much air!”

“Want me to do it again?”

“No, f-fuck. Nearly gave me a goddamn h-heart attack.”

“And a tent in your shorts.”

“Th-th-that’s n-not from th-that! Y-You’re too damn c-close.” 

“I can get even closer, babe,” Cliff says, grinning as he licks his teeth and lowers his hips to grind against Rick’s.

“F-fuck you… d-don’t start… using p-pet names... with me,” Rick says as every few words he lets out a moan. “I-I’m… n-not… your b-babe.”

“Alright, cowboy.”

Rick is about to sob at this point between Cliff being a jerk and hating to admit to Cliff he wants him to take his jeans off as they were too damn thick for contact. “Y-you can sleep n-naked if you want.”

“Heh. Don’t think there will be much sleeping for awhile.” But Cliff doesn’t hesitate to finally slip them off as they were starting to get a bit tight as well. “So you want to get yourself a full view before I continue?”

Rick shakes his head trying to look away. He won’t admit to Cliff that he’s still struggling internally with this whole queer thing, like maybe if he never sees Cliff’s dick he can still believe he’s not a faggot. Cliff clearly can handle both sexes just fine; he wasn’t sure if he was a both or just one kind of guy, and he was almost afraid to know.

“What me to stop?”

Rick shakes head again.

Cliff watches him for a bit to see if he calms down any as he runs his hands up and down Rick’s thighs and slips them up under the shorts. Seeing as it was mostly moaning instead of any kind of panicking, he tugs at the band a couple times, silently asking permission to take them off.

“G-go ahead.”

“What about your shirt?”

To Cliff’s surprise Rick just took care of that right there and then, throwing it in his face. “Geez, are we impatient or what?

“Well you’ve only been fucking teasing me all week, what the hell do you think?”

“And here by these last few minutes I couldn’t tell if you even wanted it.”

“I-I do. Just d-don’t want to be a-a faggot.”

“How about only a faggot for me, pussy the rest of the time.”

“What if I only want the first one?” 

“Well why don’t we get through this first, then you can decide.” Cliff lifts Rick’s legs up and pushes them together so he can wiggle his shorts off him. He returns the favor and tosses them at Rick’s face as he kisses and nibbles at his calves.

Rick tries throwing it back at him but misses by a mile. He pulls his legs away from Cliff’s grasp and pushes his feet up against Cliff’s chest trying to get him away. “Enough with the damn foreplay already!”

“Fine. You have any lubricant?”

“Uh, top drawer.” Rick reaches up and points over to the nightstand on his left. 

Cliff opens up and snorts. “You don’t keep your olive oil in the kitchen? Well I guess you probably do jerk it more than you cook.”

“Oh, shut up. You probably do, too.”

“Ah, you might be right.” Cliff dramatically pours it out from up high onto Rick’s belly and slowly pushes it down onto his cock and balls.

“Sh-shit, Cliff. C-couldn’t have warmed it up first?”

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll warm it soon enough,” Cliff says as he takes some of the leftover oil and slicks his own cock.

“Don’t call me that,” Rick growls. 

“Oh, you’ll want me to eventually.” Cliff climbs back on top of him and lowers himself down until he has full body contact. Rick looks away to show his annoyance but he can’t stop moaning as soon as Cliff grinds again. 

“F-fuck!! Shit, goddamn it!”

Cliff just smiles. “Better without clothes on, isn’t it, babe?” He doesn’t give Rick a chance to respond as he pulls his face back towards him and holds both sides still to give him a hard, deep kiss. Rick didn’t protest; in fact, Cliff could feel him wrap his arms around him and lets his hands roam about his back, pressing down a little harder to trace and scars he feels. 

After a bit, Cliff moves down kissing his neck but knows not to do anymore damage above his collar bone. But as soon as he passes that line, it’s back with the teeth all over Rick’s chest. Rick has to let go of his embrace as Cliff moved back too far, so now his attention through heavy lidded eyes turns to the scar on Cliff’s shoulder as he idly reaches out to touch it. “Th-that’s the h-hottest one. Right there. F-fucking beauty.”

“And you’ll never know how I got it.” Cliff wraps his hand around both their cocks and pumps them slowly with heavy pressure, slowly increasing his speed over time. Rick whines and starts grabbing and pulling at Cliff’s hair, messing up the effort he put into it this morning. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot like this, babe. Goddamn, I bet you’re a screamer.” Cliff lets his tounge swirl around and flick his nipple before biting hard.

“FUCK. YOU. FUUUUCK!” Rick grits his teeth and digs his nails into Cliff’s shoulders, scratching them up and getting some skin under them. He did at least get some satisfaction out of hearing Cliff hiss in response. 

“Ow, why you gotta be so rough?” Cliff grins as he gets the death glare from Rick and climbs out of bed. “Take a break for a moment, hang on.”

“Hang on? No no no, not fucking hanging on, y-you get back in bed and finish this!”

“Take it you’re enjoying yourself? Hey, stop that, I’m just grabbing something,” Cliff says as he watches Rick get flustered and start touching himself. He pulls his pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his jeans and tosses them on the nightstand before pulling out a condom. 

“Wait. You’re not going to actually fuck me, a-are you?”

“You know, you’re a very confusing man, being all up and down and every which way, changing your mind and mood all the time.” Cliff grabs the olive oil again and crawls back on the bed, kneeling between his legs. “If you don’t want it you gotta tell me now.”

“Is it g-gonna hurt?”

“I’ll be as gentle or as rough as you want. I’m yours to command, babe.”

Rick growls but doesn’t correct him as he scratches his own chest in thought. “Fine. Do your fucking worst.”

“So confusing… here, grab your knees for me and hold them.” Cliff backs up onto his elbows and rolls Rick’s hips up until Rick can grab them. He firmly grabs each ass cheek and spreads them as wide as he can, blowing around the area a bit before letting the tip of his tongue swirl around the rim. He grins when he hears Rick groaning and nips him in response to get a yelp out of him (“Prick!”) before flicking his tounge over the opening and pushes it in to fuck it. 

“J-Jesus, Cliff! Th-the fuck you d-doing to me?” Rick’s breathing was already getting labored at this point, not sure how much longer he will be able to last. 

“Nothing.” Cliff licks it until it’s nice and wet before he presses his lips air-tight over his hole and begins blowing and sucking as hard as he can. Rick was squirming almost wildly at this point that Cliff had to push his hips down more to calm him down. Finally he pulls up and dumps a good amount of the olive oil directly into him and slips a finger in to spread it around. 

Rick bites his lower lip and grips his hands harder on the bed sheets each time Cliff slipped a finger in. “Fuck, Cliff. That’s too tight!”

“Yeah, well I’m not gonna fit good if I don’t stretch you a bit first. You ain’t a lady so you need a little extra prep.”

“And this is why m-men shouldn’t be d-doing this!”

“Don’t worry, you’re almost pussy level wet with how much oil I used.” Cliff winks at him as Rick gets even redder. He grabs the condom and tears the package open with his teeth before slipping it on. “You ready, babe?”

Rick takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and nods. Cliff rubs the head of his sheathed cock back and forth over his opening before slowly pushing in, gauging Rick’s expression and cries on how deep he should go until he’s balls deep. “That’s as far as it will go. You alright?”

“I… I… th-think s-so. But I’m not gonna last much longer Cliff, I’m just n-not,” Rick sobs. 

“Shh, it’s ok. Just relax. If it hurts I’ll stop.” Cliff leans back down as best he can to kiss away the tears as he starts moving slowly, making sure Rick is as comfortable as possible. Finally he sees Rick start to visibly relax and he picks his pace up some. “You’re doing good, doing real good for your first time. I’ve had boys crying a lot more than you are.” 

“H-how m-many boys??”

“Ah, that don’t matter. None of them were as lovely as you.” Cliff could tell it did matter to him by the look on his face so he angles his hips trying to brush the sweet spot.

“FUCK!”

“Ah, think I found it.” And Cliff hits it again.

“FUUUCCKKK! What IS THAT??”

“You’re such an adorable virgin.”

“N-not a-a vir-virgin!”

“Your ass says otherwise.”

“I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!”

Cliff is honestly trying his best not to laugh. He knows Rick is just being overdramatic, a trait he should really not be surprised by seeing as he’s an actor, but part of him found it endearing. It was like he could tell the more Rick complained was just him being too stubborn to admit he was enjoying himself. 

He never gets up to a full fast paced fuck, partly because Rick was right that he wasn’t going to last much longer, but also that Cliff thought he should maybe save something for next time. If there’s a next time. When he senses Rick is at the edge, he gives him another hard kiss and jerks Rick off until he’s shooting his load off all over their chests, and thankfully this set off Cliff’s own orgasm or else he’d be stuck in limbo while Rick would be coming down.

“Is. Is i-it over?” Rick asks weakly. 

“Alright, even I know you’re not that much of a virgin.” Cliff gives him a goofy grin and kisses before reaching for his cigarettes and lights one. He takes a drag and offers it to Rick who immediately regrets it. 

“Goddamnit, you smoke Red Apples? Fucking horseshit.”

“Ah. that’s right. Heard you had a freak out doing a commercial for them.”

“Shitty cigarettes. Shitty advertising. Chose a-a picture of me with a double chin for my standee.”

“Poor baby. How will you live?” Cliff nuzzles down on him and takes his cigarette back. “So how was your first time with a guy?”

“Fine. I’m still not a faggot.”

“Of course.”

Cliff decided to let Rick steer the conversation if he so choose to in whatever direction he wished, even if he wanted to remain silent, that was also fine. 

“So what are you going to do about your wife?”

Cliff sighs as he takes another drag. “Guess I still gotta face her, huh? If I could only get rid of her permanently, that would be a blessing. Don’t know how I’ll do that, though.”

“Yeah, n-not like you could just kill her off or something.”

“Well that’s rather dark, don’t ya think? Plus my ass would be in jail and it would defeat the purpose of being free of her and all.”

“Could make it look like an accident.”

“Rick. I highly doubt the sex tonight was _that_ good to want to drive you to murder.”


End file.
